Neighbours

(Lazarus)

"Laz, baby, we've got trouble!"

Geordie stands in the doorway and pants. He looks terrified.

"Oh Gods, Geordie, you didn't freak out on the cops?"

He puts his hands on his hips and looks indignant.

"Of course not! God, Laz, don't you think I have a brain? I freaked out on a weird bloke claiming to be Mike's 'mate' and helping him out with a 'little problem'! He's sent a hired killer after us, Laz! Now do you still think I'm over-reacting??"

I sigh.

"Geordie, I never said you were over-reacting."

"You did too! All over your face!"

I sigh. Again. I don't want to have this argument. I'm sick of it.

Then the rest of his words sink in.

"Just wait – he's sent someone after us? You sure?"

Geordie nods, bottom lip all a-quiver in a way that's distractingly sexy.

"Sit down. Tell me exactly what he said."

Geordie sits down in the spare office chair and starts swinging it round and round, side to side.

"He said, 'I'm a mate of Mike's – I'm here to help him with a little problem?' And then he smiled, like he wasn't about to shoot the crap out me!"

Fuck. Sounds as though the bastard's changed his mind about the deal.

****

(Linda)

Right. I think I've gotten the hang of this keyboard now. Stupid qwerty layout – did a man come up with that? Mike visiting the neighbours has me bloody worried. The guy's going to get himself killed. Geordie's not the stable type, you know? He'd pull the trigger then he'd throw the gun across the room and collapse on the body, weeping – but Trent would still be dead. And yeah, he's a PI and he knows the risks in this sort of case, but I'd still feel bad. Mostly because if he knew what had gone on, there's no way he'd have just wandered over, friendly, unarmed. Fuck! If anything happens to him, it's definitely my fault.

****

(Linda)

I suppose you're wondering what the hell happened that Trent won't know about, right? I bet Mike's told him some dumbarse story about catching me in bed with one of them, and losing the plot and accidentally killing me. Funny, but I just can't get that information out of Trent. Not sure whether it's customer confidentiality keeping his mouth shut – what a bloody weird parody of customer care that is! – or whether he has old-fashioned notions about not telling a lady about rumours besmirching her reputation. No good telling him I'm no lady. Although if Geordie loses the plot and tells all, even some, that fact's going to be bloody obvious to him.

OK. Bean-spilling time. I slept with Geordie and Lazarus. Not for the sex itself, although God, the sex was fantastic. Those two have their major faults, but in the bedroom – together or individually – those boys are perfect. Both muscled, strong and incredibly gentle. And surprisingly aware of female anatomy for mostly-gay guys. But anyway, I didn't sleep with them for the sex, at least at first. I slept with them because Mike asked me to. See, he wanted in on the action, but he needed a hook.

Me.

****

(Trent)

I stand at the front door, which has just been slammed in my face with a scream. That reaction was truly odd – unless, of course, they did know something. Had they seen Mike burying Linda? That would be enough to panic almost anyone. Especially with my dumb reference to being a mate of Mike's. Huh.

I shrug and knock on the door again.

(Lazarus)

Geordie comes running in again, shaking.

"He's knocking on the door again!" he whispers.

I shrug.

"Let him knock!" I say, "Just don't let the bastard in, whatever you do. OK? I really need to get some work done, honey."

(Trent)

My hand hurts.

"MIKE. NEEDS. HELP!" I yell at the blank door. "I. WON'T. HURT. YOU! LOOK!" I hold up empty hands, "UN. ARMED!"

The door re-opens a crack.

"Promise?"

"Promise!" I say, exasperated.

"Well... OK. But the first sign of misbehaviour, I smack you over the head with a frypan, comprende?"

Sure enough, he's wielding a mean-looking iron skillet.

(Lazarus)

I traipse down the hall to refill my coffee cup. Voices? Geordie's talking to someone, and I hear 'Mike' clear as day. That's not good. I hurry down to the kitchen, and lo and behold! Geordie's chatting away to the person who scared the crap out of him and who I specifically told him not to let in.

"Geordie! Darling! Who's your little friend?" I ask, oozing charm.

"Lazarus, meet Trent! He's not a hired gun after all! Poor little Mikey! He's an exorcist, Mikey hired him to get rid of Linda's ghost! He's trying to find out where she's buried, so he can do a proper exorcism, but of course he can't ask Mikey, because Mikey's in prison now, but I was about to tell him that that's not going to help, because –"

"GEORDIE!" I interupt the flow of chatter, "Can I talk to you in the study for a second?"

I grab his arm and frog-march him to the study.

"Darling," I say, "did it ever occur to you that he might be an undercover cop?"

Geordie turns white.

I leave him standing in the study and head back to the kitchen.

"I'm so sorry to be rude," I say, oozing charm again, "but Geordie's a fervent Mormon, and he was about to launch into a lecture about souls and being earthbound and – well, you don't want to hear all that rubbish, do you? So I thought I'd do the hospitable thing and ask him to shut the hell up. He's in the study praying for us right now, I suspect! So – can I get you another coffee?"

(Trent)

Another excellent cup of coffee, and a whole new basket full of questions. These guys didn't blink an eye at the news that Linda's dead, although it isn't common knowledge. And while they panicked when they thought I was a hit man, they calmed straight down when they'd decided I wasn't. So it's not Mike himself that scares them, is it?

These guys are in it up to their necks.

****

(Linda)

"Well duh!" I told Trent when he explained his little theory to me.

"You knew they were involved?"

"Of course! I was there, remember? But that's not important, I'm not hiring you to find out who killed me, doofus! I'm hiring you to find my body. Those twits aren't going to help you with that, are they?"

"Linda," he asked pathetically, "Why didn't you tell me this before? What else aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing important," I told him, "Just find my body, OK?"

"But I need all the facts to..."

Blah blah blah. I faded out before he could bore me into a second death.